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We bend to that the working of the heart:
Prin. Only for praise : and praise we may afford To any lady that subdues a lord,
** Prin. Here comes a member of the common:
wealth, Cost. God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady?
Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.
Cost. Which is the greatest lady, the highest ?
49 An your waist' mistress, were as slender as my wit, One of these maid's girdles for your waist should be
fit. Are not you the chief woman ? you are the thickest
here,' Prin. What's your wilt, sir ? what's your will? Cost. I have a letter from monsieur Biron, to one lady Rosaline. 3
Prin. O, thy letter, thy letter; he's a good friend
Prin. We will read it, I swear :
Boyet reads. By heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely: More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua. set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon ; and he it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici ; which to anatomize in the vulgar, (O base and obscure vulger!) videlicet, he came, saw, and overcame : He came, one ; saw, two; overcame, three.
Who came ? the king ; Why did he comes to see; Why did he see? to overcome : To whom came he? to the beggar ; What saw he ? the beggar; Whom overcame he ? the beggar : The conclusion is vice tory ; On whose side ? the king's : The captive is en. rich'd ; On whose side ? the beggar's: The catastrophe is a nuptial; On whose side ? the king's ?-no; on both in one, or one in both. I am the king ; for so stands the comparison : thou the beggar ; for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may: Shall I enforce thy love? I could : Shall I entreat thy love? I
will. What shalt thou exchange for rags ? robes; For tittles? titles : For thyself? me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy pic
heart on thy every part.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO,
Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar
90 'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey; Submissive fall his princely feet before,
And he from forage will incline to play : But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou theri? Food for his rage, repasture for his den. Prin. What plume of feathers is he, that indited
this letter? What vane? what weather-cock ? Did you ever hear
better? Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the
style. Prin. Else your memory' is bad, going o'er it ere
while. Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here
in court ; A phantasm, a Monarcho ; and one that makes
sport To the prince, and his book-mates.
Prin. Thou, fellow, a word :
Cost. I told you ; my lord.
Cost. From my lord to my lady.
Cost. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine,
away, Here, sweet, put up this ; 'twill be thine another day.
[Exit Princess attended. Boyet. Who is the shooter? who is the shooter ? Ros. Shall I teach you to know? Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty.
Ros. Why, she that bears the bow. Finely put off! Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns: but, if thou
marry, Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry, Finely put on!
Ros. Well then, I am the shooter.
Finely put on, indeed!
strikes at the brow, Boyet. But she herself is hit lower : Have I hit her
now? Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when king Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it?
129 Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that
was a woman when queen Guinever of Britain was a
Thou can'st not hit it, my good man.
(Exeunt Ros. and Kat. Cost. By my troth, most pleasant ! how both did
fit it! Mar. A mark marvellous well shot; for they both
did hit it. Boyet. A mark! 0, mark but that mark; A mark,
says my lady! Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at, if it may be.
140 Mar. Wide o' the bow hand! I'faith, your hand is
out. Cost. Indeed, 'a must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er
hit the clout. Boyet. An if my hand be out, then, belike, your
hand is in. Cost. Then will she get the upshot by cleaving the
pin. Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily, your lips
Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, Sir; chal
lenge her to bowl. Boyet. I fear too much rubbing : Good night, my good owl.
[ Exeunt all but CostaRD. Cos. By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown!